The Heart of Denise, and Other Tales. Levett Yeats Sidney
want to show off by picking the most horrible paths," shrilled out Mousette, whose temper, never of the best, had gone to ribbons, and little wonder, too, poor thing!
"It would be well if we speak in lower tones-better still not to speak at all," said the equerry, and silencing Mousette with a reprimand, I asked Lalande to lead on.
Whilst the motion was fast it was not possible to think, but now that we were going at something like a snail's pace, I unconsciously gave myself over to my reflections, though I had by this time reached a state of mind when it seemed impossible for me to distinguish between right and wrong, or to think coherently. The proof of the truth of de Clermont's story had accentuated the bitterness in my heart against my husband, and this was not lessened when I remembered the infamy of the enterprise which he had undertaken, and of which I was the price. I had it once or twice in my mind to try and prevent the crime he contemplated by attempting to warn the Bearnnois; but it was impossible to do so from here, and I should have to make the attempt from Meymac. Then that thought gave place to de Clermont, and with the memory of him regrets that I had not taken his offer, and by one desperate stroke freed myself forever from de Lorgnac, even at the cost of that good opinion of the world, we pretend to despise and yet value so much, even against what I felt to be the teachings of my conscience. After all I was merely holding to vows that I had never really made. The priest's benediction surely could not bind me forever to a hateful life. I had my dreams as all young women and young men have-of a life that I could share with one whom I could trust and honour and love. One whose joys would be my joys, whose sorrows would be my sorrows, whose ambitions and hopes would be my ambitions and hopes, and so to pass hand in hand with him until one or both of us were called away to fulfil the mystery of life by death. And de Clermont? Could he have been the one to have so travelled with me? Did I love him? For the life of me I could not tell at that moment. At one time I seemed dragged towards him, at another there was a positive repulsion, and through it all there was an ever-warning voice within me, like the tolling of a bell hung over a sunken rock to warn mariners of danger, telling me, "Beware! Beware!" I felt in my heart that he did not ring true metal-why, I could not tell-nor can I tell now. But I suppose that God, who has limited the capacity of us women to reason as compared with man, has given to us this faculty of intuition by which we can know. Would that it were followed more often; would that its warnings were ever heeded! Such were the thoughts that chased each other through my brain as the long hours passed, and then they seemed to twine themselves together into a network that left me powerless to follow them and unravel the tangle. Oh, it was a weary ride! Overhead hung the moon now light, then darkened by flitting clouds, with a few stars showing here and there in the sky. On all sides of us floated a dim silvery haze that made it appear as if we were going through Dreamland; dark shadows of trees, fantastic rocks that might have been thrown here and there by giants at play, and a road that turned and twisted like a serpent's track, full of stones and boulders, on which our horses continually stumbled, but, mercifully, did not come down and bring us with them. There was one advantage we derived from these boulders. They kept the horses and ourselves from sleeping, for after a stumble and a jerk, both beast and rider began to see the folly of nodding, and bravely strove to keep awake. At last we came to something that looked like level ground, and Lalande suggested that we should increase our pace to a canter, adding truly enough that it would rouse us all up. We followed his advice, nothing loath, and kept at this pace with occasional halts to rest the horses, for the best part of the night. At last, however, neither Mousette nor myself could endure going on longer, and indeed our horses were as much, if not more worn out than we were. In short, we were so fatigued that I had got into a frame of mind in which I did not care what happened to me, one way or the other, and Mousette, poor girl, was crying softly to herself, though she kept her way with the greatest courage. This being the case, I called to Lalande that we could not go on any further; but at his intercession we made yet another effort, and at last we halted near a clump of beeches, close to which a small brook purled by. I do not think I shall ever forget the kindness and attention of the honest fellow. He made us as comfortable a resting-place as he could contrive with the aid of saddles and rugs, and then, giving us some wine to drink, bade us sleep, whilst he retired a little distance-not to rest, but to attend to the horses and keep a watch. So utterly tired out were we that we must have fallen asleep at once, and the sun was already rising when Lalande aroused us.
"If madame does not mind," he said, "it will be well if we move further up into that wood yonder and rest there, whilst I go to a village hard at hand, and procure some food, and take news of the state of the road."
To this I assented readily, and after walking for about a quarter of a mile we found a spot which exactly suited our purpose, where both we and the horses could be concealed for the remainder of the day, if it was so necessary, without any fear of discovery. Lalande then started off for the village, and we waited his coming with a hungry impatience, taking, however, the opportunity of his absence to make a forest toilet. It was some time before the equerry came back, and we were just beginning to be alarmed at his absence when he appeared, bearing with him the things he went to procure, and whilst Mousette and I were eating, he told us what he had found out, adding:
"I regret that madame will not be able to travel by daylight-that croquemort la Coquille and his gang passed through St. Bathilde yesterday, and are in the neighbourhood, and not they alone, but one or two others of like kidney. We shall have to make our way as best we can by night."
But this was too much-not for anything was I going to endure the misery of last night over again, and I argued and expostulated with Lalande, Mousette joining with me with shrill objurgations, and at last the poor fellow gave in, but I confess with a very bad grace, grumbling a good deal to himself and declaring he would be no longer responsible for our safety. I own now that we were wrong in persisting as we did, but I put it to any one if they would have endured what we had to endure without protest; and then we were women, and I am afraid possessed some of that contrariness of disposition which I have heard the opposite sex credit us with-though for pure, mulish obstinacy, give me a man who thinks he has made up his mind.
Lalande was, however, determined upon one thing, and that was to avoid the main road, and as I had so far successfully opposed his plan of forcing a night journey, I did not feel justified in making further objections, and allowed him to follow the by-paths he chose without further protest, though indeed, it was as if there was some truth in Mousette's remark of last night, that he was choosing the most difficult tracks to show how well he knew the way. We now entered the mountains of the Limousin, and what would have been a mile elsewhere, became three here with the ups and downs, the turns and twists. For miles we passed never a human habitation, except now and again a few woodcutters' huts, and sometimes a small outlying farm, and I felt the justice of Lalande's remark, when he defended himself from a sharp attack by Mousette, by saying he had chosen this road because it was safe from gentlemen like la Coquille, who never found any bones worth the picking on it, and therefore left it and its difficulties severely alone-though, of course, there was the odd chance of our meeting them, and so again to the old argument of travelling by night. As we went on the scenery became wilder and more savage, and once a large grey wolf, with two cubs by her side, appeared on the track about fifty paces or so in front of us, and after giving our party a quiet survey, and showing us a line of great strong teeth as she snarled on us, trotted calmly off with her family down the hillside. Both Mousette and myself were not unnaturally alarmed; but Lalande, with a "Never fear, madame, there is no danger," kept quietly along, though I saw that he had pulled a pistol from his holster. As the day advanced we became aware that the sun was being obscured by clouds more often than it should be at this time of year, and every now and again gusts of wind would race down the ravines, and lose themselves with ominous warnings through the forest. Still, however, the horizon was clear, and high above all others we could make out the crest of Mount Odouze. I asked Lalande if he thought there was likely to be a storm.
"It is hard to tell, madame; storms come on very suddenly in these hills, but if there is one it will not be very bad, for we can see the Cradle, as that dip between the two peaks of Mount Odouze is called, quite distinctly."
But though he spoke thus reassuringly, I saw that he increased the pace, and that ever and again he would scan the horizon, and look up at the sky. Once when he thought I had caught him, he explained as he pointed upwards:
"'Tis